Hubert Nip

CHAPTER 4 (Sra the Faun)

   Stationed atop the Whispering Wall were many more caballeros than usual, and they were urgently strapping armor over their beet-red uniforms and baggy beige striped pants. At the same time archers were heading to the stone towers and putting on their beet-shaped helmets as theyrushed up the stairs.

    Comandante Oro was moving at an urgent pace before finding a hairless feline."Burrito, still no sign of Prince Hubert?"

    Burrito the FreeFeline was busy scanning the fields beyond. "No sign of the prince but disturbances have been reported around the Toza Forest."

    The Comandante tied his hair back with a ribbon. "I will send a squad of mounted caballeros to search the forest borders."

    A disturbance in the distance and Burrito began frantically pointing at a flock of birds scattering as if frightened. And the leaves of the trees were changing from shades of dark to light green, to yellow, purple, to orange. The cycle of colors repeating and repeating.

    Oro was watching in amazement and asked the FreeFeline. "Burrito, do you find it unusual that the color change is concentrated in a single line of trees?"

    Burrito, added. "The speed reminds me of an ocean wave approaching." He then admitted. "I have seen these changes before."

    "Me too." Oro said with a transfixed stare. "Is that a..." He was now looking at the feline for an answer.

    Burrito calmly answered. "Yes Comandante, that is a war party on the move and heading to the Whispering Wall."

                                                                                                  *

    Hubert was running through the Toza Forest as the blinking stars were vanishing and the sunrise peaked over the top of the Purpura Pyr Mountains. His fingers and toes were cramped from a lack of water to drink and his shoulders had grown numb from carrying the weight of a bag. "No! They must have found a way around the river." He said to himself. "Even after I blew up their bridge?"

    Hubert could not slow his pace now, for the echoes of the whistles were growing louder, and he refused to look over his shoulder. There was no reason. For the forest folk were creatures of nature and there would be no sound of their hooves crushing leaves or of cracking branches if they finally gained on him.

    But Hubert was tired and it was tempting to look, and as soon as he did and not paying attention, the ground gave out from under his feet. There was a sound like a spoon being dunked in pudding as the frigid muck started rising around his torso. Not the first time Hubert had encountered quicksand and he was trying to calm his breathing, which was difficult, because he had been running. He then steadied himself before flicking off his hat to dry land. In one hand he was reaching for the string of the bag to pull closer, which he did, and with any remaining strength he lifted it to toss near his black hat. Where upon landing something inside made an angry mumble.

    "The forest folk will no treason with me after my thievery." Hubert said to himself. "I must free myself of this situation." The quicksand was moving around him. "Remember the technique to freeing oneself is a horizontal position with low movements atop the surface." The whistles of the forest folk were growing louder and louder and the suction was holding his body in place. The quicksand was now touching his chin and he gasped for air. "Death by quicksand? Or death by...?" Hubert's head was now completely submerged and he took a deep breath for this could be his last.

    He was wrong, and felt an object in his palm. "Take the handle! Prince Hubert, take the handle of the great sword of Moran." Came the unrecognizable voice of the Comandante Oro. "Hurry, take the handle!" Oro repeated.